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by LightofEvolution, TheFairestOfTheRare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightofEvolution/pseuds/LightofEvolution, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairestOfTheRare/pseuds/TheFairestOfTheRare
Summary: From Pierre's Prompts Week One Drabble.





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**Written exclusively by LightofEvolution**

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Harry cursed as he stumbled out of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place. He was late. Groaning under his breath because he might have been hit by one or two or a dozen hexes in the past hours, he tried to get to his room to shower and change as quietly as possible. Maybe he was lucky and she wasn’t already there-  
  
“Harry!” A bushy-haired something collided with his body. She must have been in the kitchen, preparing the popcorn.  
  
“Hi, Hermione.” He slung his arms around her in a friendly hug, inhaling her unique scent as he buried his head in her her curls. She smelled like home to him.  
  
Naturally, he received a slap on the shoulder from the witch. “Where have you been? I waited for you! You should have been here two hours ago,” she sniffled. Had she been crying? That wasn’t like his best friend at all.  
  
“We’ve been called on a mission shortly before our shift ended. We were attacked, and it took a bit longer than we would have liked to arrest them.”  
  
Hermione tensed and automatically scanned his body with her hands - arms, legs. When she reached to lift his shirt to check his torso and her fingertips glided over his bruised skin, he gripped her wrists, ignoring the pleasant shiver her touch caused. “Come on now, our movie night was postponed long enough. I’m fine.” His words didn’t stop her, though. Instead, her movements became even more frantic. Harry concern grew.  
Hermione was always in control of her actions and emotions, always the one people turned to for advice. She was his rock, had held him during his darkest times, when he woke up screaming after the war, when he was too depressed to shower or eat. She had been there when he found the energy to return to life again, when it was time to return to school, when he enrolled into the Auror program and quickly rose in the ranks.  
  
In turn, he had been his shoulder to cry on as she and Ron broke up, and held her hair back when she got so drunk over it that she got violently sick. Harry had laughed with her at her ridiculously small office when she started as a lawyer in the Ministry of Magic - and bought her a singing pot plant for it.   
  
They were practically joined at the hip, always seeking each other’s presence. However, nothing had ever happened between them. There could be something, oh yes. But both of them valued their status quo too much to step over the blurred line between friendship and more.   
  
Now, he placed his palms on her cheeks and turned her face up. Her gorgeous hazel eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Hey hey, I am okay. What has you so unhinged?” he gently asked.  
  
“Lavender. She called me an hour or so ago that Ron came home, and he was in a pretty bad shape, and that some of your team were at St. Mungo’s, but they wouldn’t tell me because I’m not family, so I came back here and...Harry, I am not losing you again,” she rambled so fast he could barely follow her words, but his heart plummeted to his knees at her final words.  
  
He stroked her face with his thumbs, rubbing circles on her flushed and tear-stained skin. “Hermione, I am fine. I promise,” he explained calmly, pulling her into another embrace. But on the insides, he wanted to scream at Ron’s wife. She meant well, or so he hoped, but she should have known that this was one of the few situations when Hermione panicked. It reminded her too much of the day of the final battle at Hogwarts, when she had believed him dead, that she had lost him. So whenever she didn’t know what had happened to him, Hermione lost her usual composure and acted...much more emotional than in any other case. It broke his heart to see her like this. She returned to her normal self after one or two hours, but still...she had never voiced her fears as astute as today.   
  
“You promised to come home to me.”   
  
“And here I am. I’m always going to return home, Hermione. To you.”  
  
He observed her reaction very closely when he lowered his head, and what he saw in her eyes made his heart soar: wonder, relief and, above all, love. That cemented his decision, and he closed the gap between them, carefully pressing his lips to hers. They were soft, and warm, and tasted like tea. It lasted only a second or two, but he could swear he felt something finally click into its rightful place. It wasn’t a firework, or a volcano erupting, it was the inevitable happening. When he opened his eyes he couldn’t remember closing, she smiled at him.   
  
“I am perfectly fine now.” He grinned and pressed another kiss on the tip of her nose where a dozen freckles sat.   
  
“Wonderful.” She exhaled loudly, as if all worries had left her, and gently pushed him upstairs. “You better hurry with your shower, Harry. ‘Coyote Ugly’ is waiting, you know?”  
  
“Give me five minutes. Okay, maybe ten if you want me freshly shaved.”  
  
Hermione giggled.   
  
He was home.

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**xXx**


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